


Never Come Back Until Forever Ends

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything for it. </p><p>Pete never grew up.</p><p>Mikey did.</p><p>They shouldn't have fallen in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Figurative Suicide

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new at all this, so if I mess up, SUPER sorry.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and please comment what you think (if anyone actually reads this lol)
> 
> _Tay

I waited for death as if it were a holiday. Hell, I even looked forward to it; counting down the days until I could finally release myself from the grip of life. Like a young child waiting at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning, itching to run down them. Almost like figurative suicide. All the bad things in life were like drugs to me, like an addictive serum that my mind was hooked on, drinking out every last good thing about me. Turning me into this monster that I had to live with. Death was paradise for me, and I wanted it- craved it. I sought after it, creeping up behind it like a shadow, but never being able to fully submerge. 

Sometimes what you look forward to may never come, like the child finally sneaking down the stairs only to be met with a cold fireplace. Death never came for me, and after a while, I stopped looking. What's the point of searching for something that you'll never find? What's the point of filling up to the brim with hope, only to have reality pull the plug? Everything was pointless, like the tip of a pencil when you were finished drawing a masterpiece.

And perhaps death would come in due time, or at least that was my mindset for the first 100 years I was breathing this air. My tub started draining when I hit 200. Now, 300 years ago, today, I remember being born into my mother's arms, crying and screaming like any other baby. I remember growing up, marrying the love of my life, and then pouring all my hope out before it could even fill up, jumping off the Palisades the day I turned 19, only to be washed ashore an hour later. Then to find the love of my life floating in the water next to me, dead.

I didn't understand. 

Every day, it still shocked me to look in the mirror and not see the wrinkled prune of a man that I felt like. Just to see a youthful face that looked like it had a future other than no constant past. Those wide eyes and full lips were not supposed to be as wide and full. My eyes weren't supposed to be filled with such brightness. Skin was not supposed to have such color and tautness. This body was destined to be a corpse, rotted into the earth, unable to see the light of day.

I was supposed to be dead.

Yet here I stood, looking at myself in a McDonald's bathroom, my mind wandering to my past, asking myself the same thing I have been for 319 years... why? 

I splashed water on my face, twisting the faucet off with a swift hand. I leaned forward, my hands feeling rough against the smooth lacquer counter top. I attempted to look at myself in the eyes, failing when I saw the tip of my nose. This wasn't normal, this isn't natural, I shouldn't be here.

I'm not real. This isn't real. 

Or it shouldn't be.

Depends on your perspective.

“Sir, we are going to be closing in about 10 minutes, I have to ask you to leave.” A young worker came in with a broom in his hand, his eyes lazy and dull. Nodding courteously at him and smiling, I began walking out, my tired legs taking me into the street. 

The New Jersey air hit my face with a cold shock, causing me to gasp a little. I exhaled, watching my breath transform into a little cloud of life, dissipating into the fog around me. My legs slowly carried me down the sidewalk, giving me time to enjoy the frigid air. There weren't many people out tonight, and the few that were seemed to be in some kind of hurry. 

From experience, every city has its own heartbeat, its pace, its rhythm. Belleville's was a quick muted constant thumping, and everyone stepped in time. The best part about visiting places with unknown heartbeats, is that you get to listen. Listen to the cafe doors open and close. Listen to the wind blow, or the cars roll. And once you've got in, you can step in time, and I think that's beautiful.

As I strolled along, I felt a disturbance in the thumping, something was changing it, breaking it. Slowly looking around, I came to the conclusion that maybe I was getting ahead of myself and that I couldn't really feel a beat. But soon, I heard the thumping of out of tune boots, and I knew that I was in fact, right, and that of course, my curiosity would get the best of me.

Then I saw him.

I have lived 319 years. I have seen every face, every body, every gender, every personality. But all of those combined were nothing compared to this boy.

He had a strong set jawline, sharp even from this far away. His nose protruded from his face in a very noble manner, curving out and tucking back in with almost god-like grace. With focused eyes that I couldn't quite decide the color of, he carried himself along on skinny legs that ran with a purpose. His long fingers were holding tightly on his grey beanie that was pushed over his light brown hair. He had his teeth gritted together, a shadow of fierce determination and precision lay over his face, complimenting his features. I felt like I had gained a new vision by just being in the presence of him. He flew straight by me, muttering something to himself. A piece of paper flew out of his pocket, landing right beside my dirty red converse.

Now, I don't believe in fate, or destiny, but it wasn't wind that knocked that paper out of his pocket. I had a feeling about this boy, I was going to see him again- I needed to see him again. It was truly inevitable. 

Mikey,  
Remember to get the limited edition, not the signed copy.  
-XOXO Gee

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion. It seemed to be talking about a book or possibly a comic. The handwriting was messy and scratchy, but there was a certain flow to it that made me believe it was an artist's handwriting. I folded the paper and looked back up. “Sir, you-”

But he was gone.

My boy who broke the beat was gone.


	2. You Can't Win When It Isn't Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi...
> 
> Um, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> -Tay

It's funny really, how a complete stranger could make you feel such an indifference about your appearance and the way you carry yourself. How they can impact your thoughts and receptivity, maybe even changing your mentality. The thing that made this sensation weird for me was the fact that this boy was unknown to me, this Mikey boy and I had never interacted in any shape or form. Something about my response to this incident really made me question my mental ability to be able to control my emotions.

My emotions were always hidden from those around me, tucked beneath this obsolete facade that I built up around me, making everyone fall in love with the Peter they thought they knew, not the Peter I was. Maybe that's why no one realized how I was dying inside, how my mind had completely thrown itself into this empty void, swallowing me whole. No one ever knew, nor will they ever know. Everyone who ever cared about me was dead, I had to watch them die.

Stuff like this really takes a toll on your mental state.

I was so nonplussed about the whole incident, so naturally I ate ice cream and watched three seasons of Supernatural on my laptop alone in a hotel. I had acquired copious amounts of money over the years, partially because I went through a very bad gambling phase, and partly because millions of dollars of debt were paid to me. Yet I always stayed in cheap hotels and ate junk food, only carrying three outfits on me.

I sat in silence, setting the empty tub of cookie dough ice cream next to me, and yawning loudly. The weight of the metal spoon tipped it over and caused the last drops to spill out onto the sheets, soaking into the fabric. I cursed and rubbed it with the sleeve of my hoodie with no success. Giving up, I fell back onto the pillows and exited out of Netflix, sighing as I closed the laptop. I should probably get some sleep, I was moving out to Rhode Island the next day, so my body needed some kind of charge. 

-

Nightmares are like the feeling on the back of your neck when you think someone is following you when in reality, it's just your mind creating an alternate view of what was happening in consciousness. I could never remember what my nightmares are about, only that they caused me to wake up in a flurry of emotions and fright. Tonight's dreams were worse than usual, I couldn't wake up. It was as if someone was holding me under the water, like a game. And I was counting, as if we were trying to see who could hold their breath for longer.

I didn't win. 

-

Waking up slowly is a painful process, because remnants of the fear and isolation still linger in the air, and in your mind. As if the dream leaves its scent hovering in your nostrils, hoping to get a recoil.

Once awake, I stretched and reached out blindly for my bag, throwing an arm over my eyes to shield them from the harsh light of the rising sun. My hands located the bag and heaved it up, grunting as I did so. Looking through the bag, I pulled out jeans and an old grey shirt, both smelling slightly of alcohol. I blinked hard multiple times to get the sleep out of my eyes, arching my back and hearing the pops of my spine.

After eventually getting my clothes on, I cleaned up the place, leaving a thank you note on the bed table. My backpack hit my shoulders with a thud as I opened the door, sliding the card into the slot. I smiled softly at the sun and started off to the main building to check out. The lobby was mainly deserted, other than a young couple whispering softly to one of the receptionists. I started towards the desk, whistling along to a ghost of a tune. 

“Peter Lewis, checking out,” I handed her the second key card, using my cover name. She beamed and took the card, typing something in on her computer. 

“Okay, Mr. Lewis, you are set to go!”

“Thank you, miss.” I nodded and swung around my leg, promenading to the door with a happy skip in my step. The fresh air hit my nostrils with a sharp tingle, causing my breath to hitch a little. Cars were zooming across the street, the sound of the friction between the road and the tires cutting through the air like a knife. The beat was a bit quicker during the day, causing me to speed up a little, my breathing matching the wind. Subconsciously, reached in my hoodie's pocket and felt the slip of paper. The note felt like it had been worn down for a long time, which confused me because it seemed like just a little reminder. I pushed away the note from my mind, along with the boy and pushed forward towards the train station. 

As I strolled along, a was met with a figure leaning forward in front of a yard, a hood pulled up over their head. I tensed up when I walked by, because this was Jersey and you never knew what could go down. He looked up and I was met with intelligent green- wait no, brown, eyes. I slowed down a bit and tilted my head to the side.

“Sir, may I ask what is wrong?” I said gently. He pulled his hood down and I had to hold back a gasp when I recognized the boy from last night. 

“I lost something very important.” He spoke with a soft lisp, a light Jersey accent layered over top of it. I stopped completely.

“I'm very sorry to hear that, is there anything I can do?” I questioned, turning my whole body towards him. He shook his head and tightened his jaw, the muscles clenching up in his cheeks. He looked a little scared, his eyes constantly flicking back and forth. 

“No, I think it's already gone,” he replied, looking past me into the street.

“May I ask what it was?” I sat down next to him, wrapping my arms around my knees. “And don't worry, I'm not a rapist or anything.” He laughed a little at that. 

“My brother, he um... passed away a little bit ago and I think I dropped the last thing he ever gave to me,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“And what was that?”

“A stupid little note,” he breathed out. “It was so stupid. And somehow, my friend Ray, who is very superstitious mind you, convinced me to go to all of these different fortune tellers and stuff, and they all told me the exact same thing.” I felt the paper between my fingers as I readied my next question. 

“What did they tell you?” 

“They told me the one I'm 'destined to meet' will bring it to me when the time comes,” he said sarcastically. “It's a bunch of bullshit if you ask me, but I really need to find it.”

“'When the time comes'?” I repeated. He nodded quickly. 

“Yeah, that's what they said.” I slowly pulled my hand out of my pocket, this time without the paper. 

“That's... interesting,” I mused, resting my head in my hands. 

“I'm Mikey, by the way.”

“Peter. But um, you can call me Pete, I guess.”

“Okay, Pete I Guess, nice to meet you,” he giggled, the laugh taking up his whole face, causing me to swell up inside. 

“Ass,” I muttered, smiling a bit as well. 

“True. You from around here?” He asked, leaning back into the grass. 

“Sort of.”

“You either were or you weren't man,” he laughed. “I'm from this house behind me.” He stretched his neck back so that he was facing the small house upside down, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. 

“I'm not really sure where I was born, honestly.” I looked back too, glancing over at him. “Someplace near the cliffs.”

“You mean the Palisades?” He asked, getting up and facing normal again, me following suit.

“That's what they're called these days?”

“They've always been called that,” he said, looking confused.

“Oh,” I said softly. “I didn't know that.”

“Yeah...” He rolled his sleeves up and my eyes caught all of the scars that littered his wrists, matching my own. I turned away, unable to look any longer. “Rumor has it those cliffs are magical. Well, that's what Ray told me.”

“Oh?” I laughed. “What kind of magic do they hold?”

“Some say it's like the Fountain Of Youth, some say it makes you invincible but the most popular is eternal life. I don't believe a lick of it,” he said, laughing softly. My eyes widened.

Eternal life?

“Eternal life?” I repeated.

“Yeah.” He faced me, looking confused. “That's what they say, but it's stupid, it's not real.”

“It's just a legend, I'm sure,” I lied, shaking. 

There was something important about those cliffs, something no one knew.

That's where I jumped...

That's where I tried to kill myself.

-


	3. Don't Be So Quick To Give Up Something You Can Never Get Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendon sings smoothie flavors and Pete doesn't know how to say cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, this sucks.
> 
> -Tay

“You okay?” Mikey asked, catching my wide eyed expression.

“Uh, yeah, I'm fine, just... nothing.” I shook myself off, blinking hard.

“Are you sure? You don't look too well.” He set his arm down on my leg, looking up at me with a concerned look on his face. 

“Really, it's nothing, I should probably get going.” It occurred to me that I would have to leave soon, and that talking to him really didn't help the time crunch. 

“Where are you off to? You live around here?” He asked, standing up with me, brushing dirt off of his black denim jeans. His legs were really nice, skinny yet muscular, the tautness of the denim clinging tightly to the skin. 

“I don't live anywhere, really.” I started walking down the sidewalk, pushing my hair out of my eyes. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” He jogged to keep up with me, his mop of hair flopping onto his forehead. I shook my head, thinking about how to explain it.

“I don't really have a house... my home is the world, I guess.” I pulled my sleeves down over my hands, gripping onto the fabric to cover up the scars that laced my forearms. He thought for a second, eyeballing my hoodie.

“How old are you, really?” He asked, matching my pace.

“19,” I replied, my eyes flicking over the streets.

“Why don't I believe you?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows. Yanking out my ID, I shoved it in his face, grinning. 

“Believe me now?” I snickered. 

“But you travel all by yourself?” He asked, ignoring my statement. “No girlfriend, no no one?” 

“Nah.” I shook my head. “I like being all alone.”

“That's no life to live,” he replied, kicking a stone off the pavement and into the street, his eyes trailing to watch the cars run over it. “That's very lonely.”

“That's the point, I guess, of being alone.” I shrugged. “I don't have anyone left, really, they're all gone.”

“Oh,” Mikey said softly, tugging on his jacket. “That's... unfortunate.”

“Yeah, but it's okay, I like roaming the world, I like seeing everything.”

“It sounds fun but... I couldn't give up my hometown.” He lifted his arms up at the sky and beamed. 

“I was so quick to give up mine,” I whispered, watching him spin around. The sun caught his hair and made it glint, his kaleidoscope eyes sparkling at the world. 

“I'm hungry,” he said suddenly, stopping and facing me.

“Good for you,” I laughed. 

“Let's go have lunch.”

“You want to go out to lunch with some strange dude you just met?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. 

“You're not that strange.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, I know the perfect place to go, in public so you can't murder me.”

“Whatever,” I said, smiling to myself. “Where is it?”

“Tropical Smoothie of course!” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me along the sidewalk, his legs carrying him faster than my short ones. “Off the Neverland Peter! We can fly!” 

“Wendy, is that you?” I chuckled, the wind blowing my hair all over the place, the strands getting caught in my eyes. 

“Shut up!” He yelled back, turning the corner and dashing across the street, getting several angry honks from cars around us. 

And even though I was just running with some strange guy, everything felt right, because we were going to Neverland. And my only thoughts were Please.... please fly away with me.

-

“Ta-da!” He pulled my into the small building, my nostrils filling with the scent of sweet fruit. The shop was pretty much empty, most people not wanting smoothies in cool weather like this. One waiter came rushing around the counter, singing loudly. 

“Here's you smoothies,  
I hope you enjoy 'em  
Banana, strwaberry and  
mango and plum!” He set them down on the table, earning claps for his cheesy lyrics. The couple handed him a five dollar tip, causing a huge grin to spread over the guys face. He was really attractive, dark hair gelled back and brown eyes that could kill. Mikey's face lit up when he saw him.

“Brendon!” He yelled, running up to give the man a hug.

“Mikes! Hey little bro!” He rubbed his head, laughing. I cautiously walked towards them, my eyebrows pulled together. 

“I thought your brother passed away.” 

“Nah, this isn't really my little brother,” Brendon said, letting Mikey go. “I'm Brendon.” He held out his hand. I shook it and smiled politely. 

“Peter, but just call me Pete.”

“I should probably go, are you just here to say hi, or are you actually getting something?” Brendon asked, leaning his tray on his hip. 

“Yeah, we're getting something,” Mikey replied, sliding into the table next to us. He looked giddy, like a small child. I wondered how old he was, he couldn't be any older than 16, right? He was tall but...

I sat down across from him, grabbing the sheet that held all the flavors. “Can I mix them up?” I was quite unfamiliar with smoothies, looking at this paper made me realize how uneducated I was about modern food.

“Yeah,” he said, pointing at his menu. “Just pick any fruits you want. You never been here?” I shook my head, looking back down at the paper. “That's unfortunate, I love it here. And Brendon will sing to you.”

“That's... uh, cool?” I tried to use modern slang, my mouth awkwardly sliding out the syllable. 

“Yeah, he's great. You should meet Frank.”

“Ha, I knew a Frank a while back,” I said, remembering about 50 years ago when I met the short black haired 21 year old with a desperate dream to be a jazz star. 

“Yeah, Frank's my brothers... ex?” He drew circles in the small puddle of water that blanketed the table. “Frank Iero, the small punk guitarist.” I almost spit everywhere. Iero was the surname of the boy that I had known and... was the first boy I was attracted to. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I really should meet him.” I shook it off. “And I think I want the strawberry banana.”

“I think I'll have that as well,” Mikey said in a posh English accent. “Bren! We're ready!”

“Bren?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. 

He blushed. “Whatever.” Brendon came hustling over, flipping his hair out of his face. 

“What do you.. wait no.” He tapped his pencil on the table. “Let me guess, two strawberry bananas?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I'm magic,” he giggled. “Nah, I just overheard you. I'll put the orders in.” He turned away but looked over his shoulder. “Keep the kinky sex to a minimum please.”

“Woah,” I said, my eyes widening. “are you even legal?”

“I'm older than you, smart ass,” Mikey replied, rolling his eyes. I seriously doubt that. 

“You are?”

“Yeah, I'm 20.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh, also, I'm gay.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”


	4. A Lost Boy, A Very Lost Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short lmao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I literally had no wifi for like two weeks but here we are! I'll be updating my other two ASAP

We sat in awkward silence for a bit after he spoke, fiddling with the ends of our menus while we looked anywhere but at each other.

I cleared my throat. “So, Mikey...”

“Yes, Peter...” he laughed, twirling his index finger in the small water puddle on the table. 

“Tell me, what's your story?”

“I'm Michael Way, a nerd whose brother died from cancer two years ago, a boy whose mom kicked him out for being gay, and a boy who has this unrealistic dream of traveling the world and having my first kiss under the stars,” he replied, throwing me a sly smile. “And you?”

“Nothing. I'm nothing,” I said simply, inhaling deeply. 

“Well... what do you want to be when you grow up?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. I laughed.

“Grow up?” I asked. “I'm not even sure what I am now, honestly.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I'm not quite sure who I am or what I want to be just yet...” I looked off into the distance, wrinkling my nose. “There's... been some things that got in my way, things I can't change.”

“Like what?”

“It's hard to explain and I doubt you would believe me,” I chuckled, facing him. He raised an eyebrow.

“Try me, Pan.”

“I'll tell you later, when I'm ready, not now though,” I replied, looking anywhere but him. He had this affect on me, making my eyes want to lay on him. He had all kinds of affects on me and I'm not sure if I like it.

“Okay...”

“You guys want me to bust out in Beyonce?” Brendon came over to our table, holding a tray with two cups balancing on it. “Because I can if you want me to.”

“No thanks,” Mikey giggled, accepting the smoothie from Brendon. The cup was cold in my hand as I gripped it, the chill causing me to shiver. 

Mikey raised an eyebrow. “Cold?”

“A bit,” I replied, setting the drink down as Brendon sashayed away. “Never had one of these before, wasn't really sure what to expect.”

He almost spit out his drink. “You've never had a smoothie? Are you kidding me?”

“Hey...” I blushed. “I'm... not in with the day. I- never mind.”

“You what?”

“I just have a... history. It doesn't matter.” I looked out the window, taking a small sip. People were everywhere, scattering across the sidewalks and streets, the thumping sending vibrations straight to my chest. Mikey's long fingers were tapping on the table, completely to his own rhythm. It was as if he couldn't even hear it. He was completely off beat to the sounds of the city, but completely in tune with his own. He intrigued me, my eyes glued to his knobby hands as they pounded on the lacquer surface. 

“Can I help you?” He asked, his lips pulling into a smirk. 

“It's... it's nothing.” I shook my eyes and tore my gaze away, trying to find something to focus on. 

“Sorry for my table tapping, Gee never liked it either.” He smiled sheepishly and looked into his lap. 

“It wasn't that- well, it was that but not in a bad way-” He held his hand up.

“Pete, kindly shut up.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I haven't had a civilized conversation with someone in years, I apologize if my etiquette isn't as sharp and dignified as it once was.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Alrighty then.”

“I have to leave soon,” I said suddenly. “I'm leaving Jersey in a few hours.”

“Oh really? Where are you headed?”

“Probably Rhode.” My fingers trailed over my straw, turning it in circles.

“You have family up there?” He questioned, scratching his head. 

“No... I just, it's necessary. I have to always be on the move, I guess.”

“What are you? A wanted criminal? A mad man?” He leaned forward. 

“I only wish it were that simple,” I swallowed hard.

“Peter Pan, you confuse me. Every time I think I've got you, you fly off again.” He cocked his head to the side. “What are you?”

“A lost boy.” I smiled. “A very lost boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Your comments and kudos are much appreciated and loved! They make me so happy. Stay tuned.


	5. Blind, But Not Without Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, it's been forever but here it is. I really like this chapter. Yay love you guys.

His eyes were trained on me throughout the entire conversation, probably one of the most focused and attentive person I had ever met. When he would smile, a warm flower would bloom in my heart, spreading heat and emotion all around my chest. It was strange, I hadn't felt anything like this in years, whatever it was. He met my eyes again his kaleidoscope eyes trained on my own, blinking and hiding their beauty behind long lashes. 

“I have to be off soon,” he said softly, lightly touching his empty cup. “It's been almost three hours, Pan.”

“Wait, really?” I looked at my watch on my left wrist and gaped. “Jeepers, it has been!”

“Jeepers?” Mikey laughed, bending at his waist while cracking up. I tilted my head. 

“What's so wrong with that word?” I questioned, smiling awkwardly. He sucked in a large quantity of air, making seal noises. 

“Nothing,” he gasped. “It's just- oh god,” he rubbed his nose, “you're just adorable.”

“Adorable? I'm menacing, Michael,” I puffed out my chest and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction. But his eyes were trained somewhere else, I think beyond than what I could see. They held a sadness, an emotion within them that no one should have to experience. “Are you... doing well?” 

He shook whatever look he had in his eyes off. “Uh, yeah, just... thought I saw someone.”

“Your brother?” I asked softly, slouching back down into my chair. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and sighed. 

“I... I don't know. Like I said, I just thought so.”

“If... if you say so.” I pulled out my wallet and slid out a chunk of cash, plopping it on the table. 

“That's a lot of money, Pan,” Mikey said as his eyes widened. 

I shrugged. “I liked Brendon's singing.” 

“You're a dork,” he breathed, shaking his head and standing up. I followed suit and slid my jacket off the back of the seat, draping it over my shoulders. 

“Sorry, what is a 'dork'?” We left the shop together and began walking side by side into the cold air. 

“It's like a really nerdy but cute person who does silly things,” Mikey explained, his arm brushing mine. “So, you.”

“Oh,” I replied, looking at the ground. Gum and wrappers littered the ground along with cigarette butts. It was truly disgusting how people treated out earth. I may have a thousand lives to live, but the earth definitely didn't. People were in a hurry around us, but we took our time, long, slow strides carrying us to not only where we wanted to be, but where we needed to be. And for now, that was simply with each other. 

“What's your favorite breed of dog?” Mikey randomly asked as we turned into a housing complex. I thought for a moment then replied, “Pitbull, probably.” He nodded and lifted the corners of his mouth in a small smile. 

We walked in circles around the complex, bringing up random topics and laughing with each other. I had never felt so young, so alive, so... vibrant. This feeling inside me, I didn't know what it was, excitement and youth and for some reason another warm blossom blooming in my chest. The sun was setting low in the sky, teasing the horizon with it's warm rays. I knew that I was leaving early tomorrow, and needed to pack and be ready. But something kept me here, something anchored my feet to the town of Belleville, New Jersey, and what it was, I was unaware. Something in the back of my mind told me it was the boy sitting next to me, enthusiastically gesturing with his hands, but another part of me pushed those thoughts away. 

“And then Gerard was like 'Frank, I need you here', and I shrieked because they're like, the cutest and the inner matchmaker and fanboy inside of me exploded. So they got married like three months later and I couldn't make it because I was sick and I was so mad at myself for like a year after, it was just bad,” Mikey spoke quickly, as if he was literally running away from the sad feelings that accompanied his story.

“It wasn't your fault,” I reassured him, touching his shoulder lightly. He looked down, his eyes turning glassy. 

“It was a few months later that he... he, uh, was diagnosed,” he spoke softly, like he didn't want anyone but else to here. And all I wanted to do was listen. “He came home, and Frank held him as he sobbed in front of me and Ray, apologizing for something he had no control over.” I frowned, thinking about how sad Mikey must have felt, with his brother and just life in general. He saw my frown and grabbed my face in his hands. “God, don't be sad, please. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything at all.”

“Michael, you just said your brother was apologizing for something he couldn't control and now you're doing it to me. I don't care, I want to listen to you. Goodness, it's all I want to do. You cannot, do you hear me, cannot, blame yourself for things beyond your reach. Don't add any more stress to yourself than needed, you get me? You beating yourself up isn't the right way to go about this. Some things happen for a reason, some things need to happen, sometimes you can't control that. But the solution isn't to lose everything, it's to win it all back.” Stars began appearing in the sky, freckling the inky blue expanse with twinkling lights. The memory of Mikey wanting his first kiss under the stars popped into my head. He wasn't happy right now, I could clearly see that, but maybe I could... make him happy. His hands were back in his lap now, clasped together, his long fingers weaved into one another. 

I placed my hand on his cheek and looked up, gesturing for him to follow. His eyes trailed to the sky and he let out a small, shaky breath. “The sky... the stars...”

“They're quite lovely, aren't they?” I breathed, rubbing my thumb along his cheekbone. He looked back down and lowered his gaze to my lips. I'm not sure who leaned in first, but we met in the middle, our lips fitting perfectly into each other. He tilted his head a little to the left, making me inch towards the right. His lips were dry but soft, warm and formed by the gods. I felt his arm wrap around my waist as the kiss became more intense, our mouths open and shaking against each others. My eyes were closed, but I felt like they were wide open. 

 

I saw nothing, but I knew everything.


	6. 6. Cliffs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! I just moved across the country and things have been HECTIC but even though it is short, here is a new chapter!

He blinked open his eyes, the hazel irises dilated and wide. Sucking in a breath, he turned away and folded his hands. “What was that?”

“I-” I stuttered, “I'm not really sure.”

“It was... nice,” said Michael. A chill ran through the air, making both of us shiver and curl closer into our jackets. Every time I breathed, a small cloud would form by my lips and release into the frigid air. We sat in silence for a few minutes, his eyes unblinking and focused, me playing with the tips of my gloves. 

“You know,” he spoke up after some time, “I think we should do something like this another time.”

“Meaning?” 

He hesitated. “Like... enjoy each others company. Hang out. Go out. I dunno.”

“Okay...” I said slowly, all thoughts of leaving Belleville slowly leaving my mind. 

“Just a thought,” he said quickly in an attempt to dismiss the topic. 

“No, that sounds incredible, really,” I assured him. “I just... I was just visiting here, I don't really have a place to stay.”

“You could stay with me.” he met my gaze shyly. 

“I just met you,” I pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

He shrugged. “Something tells me that I'm right for trusting you.”

“I'll have to say no to that.” I shook my head. “I can find a place to camp out, don't worry.” 

His eyes turned a little bit sad. “Okay.”

“I'm sorry, it's just... I can't explain it right now.” I swallowed hard. “It's a complicated situation that I'm not ready to face at this moment.”

“We can still hang out, right?” He asked, smiling hopefully. 

“Of course.” I beamed. “I couldn't turn that down.”

“Awesome.”

-

Wandering New Jersey streets at night was probably not the best idea I had, but I did it nonetheless. After taking Michael back to his house, I began walking around, not really tired and in need of something to get my mind off of things. Prior to these last few decades, I would have found an abundance of alcohol to indulge in, but I had learned my lesson involving intoxication and that was not the distraction I need right now. I needed something more. I just wasn't sure what it was exactly. 

The streetlights were dim as I trudged down the cracked sidewalk. Pulling my coat closer around me, I blew out a puff of air. All these years and I still wasn't quite accustomed to the cold. As I carried on, the air got chillier, the people began disappearing and suddenly my feet were taking me towards the sound of rushing water. Frantically, I looked around. Trees and bushes were getting thicker and the road quickly disappeared behind them. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, trying to will my legs to stop. But they didn't stop. I walked faster. 

At one point, I felt the grip of reality release me into the world of god knows what. The silence that came with the confusion and sense of longing was so dense it was defeaning. My gaze flicked around the woods I had somehow managed to enter, taking in everything I could. There was a break in the foliage up ahead, and my feet began running towards it, carrying my body along with them. I broke out of the woods and gasped at what lay before me. 

It was the cliffs.


End file.
